Dragon Keeper
by Macavity
Summary: AU. Strength is a virtue, but what if that strength is just an illusion? Here's a brief look into the thoughts of the tamed. Someone's hidden a secret for a very long time...


Disclaimer: Are they mine? No. Will they ever be? Likely not. Yu-Gi-Oh is currently the property of Kazuki Takahashi, and as long as it continues to make him money, it's not likely he's ever going to sell it, much less to me.  
  
Seto: I shudder to think what the world would be coming to if a master such as Kazuki Takahashi ever sold us to YOU.  
  
Yami: Oh, the horror! The complete and utter horror!  
  
Seto: I think I'll go kill myself right now.  
  
Me: *is busy watching new episode of YGO on TV* Hmm...? Oh, yeah...sure...  
  
Seto: A-HEM! I said, I think I'll go KILL myself!  
  
Me: *still watching* Uh-huh...  
  
Yami: Hmmm...  
  
Seto: *shrug*  
  
Yami: POCKY!  
  
Me: WHERE?! WHERE?! ...Darn it, false alarm. *goes back to watching*  
  
Yami: *shrug* Oh, well. *looks out at audience* Enjoy the story, folks!  
  
Author's Notes: I don't know where this story came from. I'm on a very mythical kick right now, and have become very interested in dragons, vampires, Ancient Egyptian mythology, stuff like that. Go figure as to why. This story had been nagging at me to be written for a long time, so I finally broke down and did it. It is indeed an AU (Alternate Universe), but only a slight one. It's a look at how even the strongest people in the world need someone to hold them sometimes, and how much of an illusion strength really is. That said, please enjoy!  
  
Special Dedication: For my beta-readers: Zoe, Jia, and Lady Kaiba. This is also dedicated to Marie, Celia, and Em. Y'all know who you are. I doubt you'll ever be reading this, but y'all know who you are just the same. ^_^  
  
And here it is, folks...  
  
~*~  
Yu-Gi-Oh!  
Dragon Keeper  
~*~  
  
They think I'm human, but I'm not.  
  
I put on a very good act. I stay away from people, never give them a chance to know me, and hide what I can. They've never seen my wings. They've never seen the sheer power I now hold within me, because they never dreamed that such a thing could be possible.  
  
No one except for...him.  
  
My master knows all about me. He's the only one in the world who knows. He's also the only one in the world who cares about me, who cares enough that he shelters me and pets me and reassures me when I'm frightened. That's the other thing; I like to be petted. So many people in the world would hate me or fear me for what I am, but not him. He tries to help me. And he gives me a place to run to when I'm upset.  
  
Like now.  
  
I was in my room, alone in the house (or so I thought), when it happened. I was just so uncomfortable dressed in my work clothes, the heavy trench I always wear pressing down on my wings...that's why I always wear my coat, by the way. It's heavy enough to press down on my wings and conceal them from the world, so no one ever knows.  
  
Anyway, I was alone. My shoulders itched and my shirt was just too confining to deal with any longer. So I took off my coat and shirt, never thinking I had to lock the door--the maids aren't allowed in my room. I spread my wings wide and let them dry out a bit, as they'd become quite wet from days without use. The scales shone in the evening light, and the cool breeze from the window just felt so comforting...  
  
A shriek pierced the darkness of my room.  
  
I guess I should explain myself a little better, before I tell any more of my story. I was orphaned at age five, adopted at age eight, and mutated at age ten. Yes, mutated. My 'loving' stepfather was very heavy into DNA research, and had even stumbled upon what he thought was real dragon DNA. It was his pride and joy. He seemed bound and determined to create his own, real-life dragon by cloning the DNA, but he always failed. By the time he adopted me, my stepfather had concocted a different idea. He hired a team of scientists to create the foundation for wings and graft them onto my spine. It was a long surgical process that required a lot of pain and a lot of time.  
  
That's where I got the marks on my back, by the way. At least some of them. The surgeons tried to be careful, but the human body just isn't made for having wings implanted on its back. I ended up with quite a few scars and marks.  
  
Then, as time went on, I started receiving these strange injections every two weeks. The liquid was bright blue-green and it glowed in the syringe. I was terrified. But as the treatments wore on, I began to notice strange changes in myself. My eyes, which once were a pretty shade of blue, became icy and cold. I could see farther, better, and more strategically than a normal human could. My ears became more sensitive as well--now I could hear my father coming to check on me in my room, even when he tiptoed. My nose didn't change much, fortunately, and neither did my tongue.  
  
But the wings!  
  
Oh, they were beautiful. They spanned eight feet, fully extended, and were covered with the loveliest silver-blue scales you ever did see. They were soft and buttery to the touch, but at the same time strong and powerful. When they were first grafted to my spine, the wings were really nothing more than a pair of white, bony foundations. But the more injections I took, the more my wings developed. Over time they became larger and wider, and an intricate web of narrow, hollow supporting bones sprouted from the original stems. They seemed to go through a metamorphosis, first resembling a bat's wings, then later taking the appearance of a dragon's. It took me a few weeks to learn how to fly with them, but learn I did. And then all the cuts and scrapes I'd gotten in those weeks seemed worth it.  
  
I was a twelve-year-old child with wings. And I could fly.  
  
Hiding those wings wasn't a problem in my youth. I'd always had a private tutor who was on my stepfather's payroll, so he knew full well about the wings before I even set foot in the classroom. It didn't become a problem, really, until my stepfather was dead. He tried to tear off my wings...I guess he realized his plan was just an impossibility. We were in his office, he came after me with a butcher knife, and I knew that if he managed to chase me down and catch me I'd lose my wings forever. I ran away from him, trying desperately to get the window open so I could escape. But he lunged at me before I could even get it open a crack.  
  
What happened next was a complete reflex. He grabbed a hold of my back and yanked me towards him, probably to make it easier to slice off my wings. However, the dragon inside me sensed danger and did the first thing that came to mind--I flared my wings in a frantic attempt to wriggle away. My right wing slammed into my stepfather's chest, sending him stumbling backwards...right through the window I'd been trying to open.  
  
They always say it's not the fall, but the sudden stop that kills you.  
  
I almost went insane, looking at the dead body of my stepfather crumpled on the pavement and knowing that I had caused it to happen. I was so ashamed of what I'd done, I jumped out the window and soared into the air, thinking that I would fly over the ocean as far as I could go, and then when I finally grew too tired I would simply plummet into the depths. I wanted to die. I was a murderer at age twelve. It was just too much for my poor youthful mind to handle.  
  
But I just couldn't seem to rid the world of myself. I fell into the ocean, yes, but the next thing I remember is finding myself on the beach, washed up on shore. It was like the world itself refused to let me die. And it was there that he found me.  
  
My master was taking a walk along the beach alone that night, just enjoying the cool evening air and gazing at the stars, when he nearly tripped over me. I must have made a pretty pitiful sight...I was soaking wet, my clothing tattered and torn, and then worst of all were the dripping, leathery wings sprouting from my shoulders. I'm surprised he didn't scream for help or run away. But he didn't; that's the kind of person my master is. He really does care about me. He picked me up, carried me home, and tended to the shallow wounds caused by my stepfather's knife.  
  
When I was finally well enough to stand and speak, he sat and listened as I told him what had happened to me. I was so afraid that he would be horrified and throw me out, but instead he just nodded and stroked my hair and told me that everything would be okay in the end. He slowly nursed me back to health, both physically and mentally. Then, when I finally thought I was ready to return to my old life, my master just hugged me and said he was sure I would do fine.  
  
But that wasn't the end.  
  
I owed him a debt I couldn't repay--my master had saved my life. Between my own honor and the dragon's sense of justice, I had to do something to repay him. When I told him about this, he suggested a way for both of us to be happy. It turns out he was having second thoughts about letting me go, so he made me a deal I couldn't refuse. From that point on, I belonged to him first, the world second. But in return, I always had a place to run to for comfort when things went bad.  
  
Which is what I was doing before I started to tell the story of my past.  
  
I looked up from my place in my room, horrified to hear my brother's scream from the doorway. I'd tried so hard to hide it from him, so he wouldn't have to bear the shame of having a brother who was...a freak of nature...  
  
For a long moment, I couldn't do anything but stare at him in absolute terror. He'd seen my wings...he'd seen my wings! He knew my secret! Once again, the dragon within me took control and I ran towards the window, leaping out the open portal and opening my wings to catch the rush of wind. Sheer momentum carried me up, up, up into the deep reddish sky, and as quickly as I could I directed myself towards my master's home.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, I arrived and perched on a tree outside my master's window, tapping desperately on the glass until he finally looked up from his book. A smile flitted across his face and he strolled to the window, opening it so I could enter. The moment I was inside, he shut the window, pulled the shades, and scooped me up into a warm hug.  
  
My master always knows exactly why I come when I come. I never have to tell him--he somehow always knows.  
  
Ever so softly, he brushed a lock of hair behind my ear and murmured, "Then he finally found out, my dear little pet?"  
  
That's what he calls me--pet. I don't think I've ever heard him call me by my real name. Maybe that's a good thing. My name is connected with who I am, and when I'm with my master all I'm trying to do is forget who I am and where I come from. So he calls me "pet". I guess that's kind of what I am to him, you know? I'm certainly not his equal. And I do belong to him, anyway.  
  
I know if anyone else were to call me a pet, my pride just wouldn't allow it. I'd yell at them, hit them, insult them...but with my master it's different. When he calls me that, I feel safe. Sort of like a little lost puppy that's been taken in out of a rainstorm, I guess. Everything just seems to disappear when I'm around him, and I don't have to worry anymore. I'm just his. And doesn't a master always provide for his pet?  
  
Ever so gently, my master ran his fingers over my wings and down my back, making me shiver at the ticklish sensation. "Poor, sweet little pet," he continued, smiling softly. "But you know it had to happen eventually. Even the best-kept secrets can't stay hidden forever."  
  
Maybe he's right. Maybe I can't keep my secret forever. But I'll never tell anyone about my master. I'm not allowed to. He told me the day he let me go that I was never supposed to tell anyone about him. It wasn't safe for me, and he didn't want me to be at risk. Even if I were sent back to that lab where they did this to me, even if they beat me and tormented me and cut off my wings, I'd still never tell about my master.  
  
"Come now, pet, talk to me...why are you so upset? You knew it had to happen sooner or later. He'll understand."  
  
"I-I'm scared, master..." My own voice sounded strange to me. I normally don't talk very much; like I said, I try to stay away from people. "I don't know why, honest, I'm just so scared..."  
  
He petted me again and slowly rocked side to side, making me feel safe and warm. "Not so much scared as startled, pet. After a while you'll feel better. Why don't you stay here for a while, hmm? You can settle down here, where you know you're safe, and then go back when you've calmed down a bit."  
  
Well, what my master says is always what I do, so I smiled and nodded in reply. Pleased, he set me down on the soft mattress of the bed and walked back over to his desk, picking up his book and returning to where I sat. Ever so calmly, he returned to his reading, smiling to himself when he came to an interesting part.  
  
I knew this part quite well. Whenever I'm scared he lets me curl up around his arm, put my head on his shoulder, and just sit and be near him. This time was no different. While he read silently to himself, I looked around the familiar room, glancing over the brightly colored posters on the walls and the neatly kept closet. Everything in the room was like an old friend to me, and I was so happy to just be there where everything seemed right.  
  
I guess I must have dozed off, because when I woke up I was curled up alone on the bed, my head propped up on a small pillow. There was some chicken soup on the bedside table, in the little bowl that's especially for me. There wasn't any spoon to eat it with, but that was okay. I'm not allowed to start eating until my master gets back from wherever he goes, anyway. I was starving and it smelled so good, but if I ate even a bite of the food set out for me when I wasn't supposed to, my master would know. He always knows.  
  
I didn't know when my master was coming back, so I just sat on the bed and looked out the window while I waited for him. I'm not allowed to leave the room--that's one of his most important rules. Whenever I'm at his house and I'm left alone in the room, I have to sit quietly and not make a sound or else I'll get in trouble. Master has never been mad at me before, and I intend to keep things that way.  
  
After about an hour, the door creaked open and he walked inside, smiling when he saw me still sitting in my place on the bed. He walked over and sat down next to me, remaining silent for a moment while I waited in eager anticipation.  
  
He chuckled softly, a rich, lovely sound. "What an obedient little pet I have..."  
  
I nodded, still perfectly silent. My wings were trembling by then, but I forced myself to calm down and wait patiently for my master's next direction.  
  
"Go ahead and eat, little pet. You must be starving, and you deserve a reward for being so good while I was gone."  
  
And then, all at once, I was grabbing at the dish and desperately pouring the warm soup into my mouth, swallowing and swallowing without even bothering to chew the soft noodles or vegetable pieces. I was just so hungry, and I'd waited for so long, that every thought in my mind except for eating was gone.  
  
While I was eating, my master sat by my side and chuckled at my eagerness, stroking my hair and cautioning me not to eat too fast unless I wanted a stomachache. At that point, a stomachache from eating too much seemed like bliss compared to the way I'd felt a minute before. I just ate and ate and ate until every last morsel in the dish was gone, and then I timidly set the bowl back down onto the table. I knew better than to ask for more. Master wouldn't give me any less than I needed, so whatever he gave me would be sufficient.  
  
Just then, as he was about to say something, a voice from downstairs called his name. Master stood up, petted me on the head, and left the room once again to reply to the strange voice.  
  
I'm not allowed to call my master by his real name, even though I know what it is. Actually, it's a very pretty name. But I don't dare say it, not even when I'm alone. He would know if I ever said his name out loud. I don't allow myself to even think it unless I'm with him. In the whole time I've known him, not once have I ever said it. That, above all else, is the one thing that Master absolutely forbids me to do. He says it's for my safety, and I believe him. Besides, it would be disrespectful to call him by name. Like I said before, we're not equals. I am the pet and he is the master.  
  
He came back a few minutes later, closing and locking the door. "You have to leave very soon, pet," he said quietly, his eyes locked on mine. "People will be coming over in a little while, so you just can't stay."  
  
I couldn't help it; the moment I heard my master say those words, I began to cry. I didn't want to leave my master, and I especially didn't want to go back to try and deal with all the problems I'd left behind. I know it was naïve, but I really believed that I could stay with my master forever.  
  
Gently, Master picked me up and held me close, stroking my wings at the base just the way I liked. "Shhh, pet, shhh," he soothed, moving his hand up to brush away the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Don't cry, sweet little pet..."  
  
Hiccupping, I forced myself to stop weeping and looked at him, my eyes bleary. Once again, he smiled at me and gave me a hug. "It'll be all right, okay? I promise if you go back home now, you can come back again tomorrow. You can make it through one more day, can't you?"  
  
Upset though I was, I knew my master was right. "Y-Yes, master," I whispered, bowing my head and walking slowly towards the window. I took one more sad look around the room, smiled sickly at my master, and then launched myself into the sky.  
  
Master was right once again. When I got home, my brother came into my room and hugged me, saying that even though he didn't understand, he still cared about me. I smiled at him and hugged right back, apologizing for running away. Once we'd both made amends, he left to play his video games and I settled in to wait and think about everything that had happened.  
  
This evening, I'll go back to see my master again. He'll smile at me, hug me, pet me, feed me and look after me, the same way he always does. He's the only person in the world who knows everything there is to know about me. He's the one who protects me from the world, who saves me every time I feel like I want to die. He's the one who cares for me when I need it. He's my master.  
  
And I'm so glad I'm his little pet.  
  
~*~  
  
Awwwwwwwww! *swoons* Cuuuuuuute!  
  
Seto: Humph. This story is a bunch of crap. Wings? WINGS?!  
  
Yami: I could see you with wings.  
  
Seto: You could also see the resurrection of disco.  
  
Yami: Good point...  
  
Me: *still watching YGO* NO! NO! YAMI, YOU IDIOT! NOOOOOOOOO!  
  
Yami: Erm...heh-heh...right.  
  
Seto: Maybe you should get that idiocy thing checked out...  
  
Yami: It's not my fault! He was wide open for an attack!  
  
Seto: Jeez. Even JOEY could tell he was up to something.  
  
Yami: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!  
  
Soooo, how was it? I had to get this out of my head. Reviews would be appreciated, as would suggestions, comments, and constructive criticism. Don't be afraid to tell me what you liked or didn't like about it, people! I need the feedback, anyway. Ahem. That said, Joey the Flame Swordsman and Flamina, the angel minion of fire, are going to torch any cruel, stupid, pointless, hurtful, or nasty reviews. Well? Okay! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! 


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